


No One's Gonna Find You When You're Hiding In The Dark

by OkamiShadou98



Series: Lucifer One-shots [7]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Crying, Crying Cuddles, Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lucifer's a little spoon, Nightmares, PTSD, Post Season Four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25246315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OkamiShadou98/pseuds/OkamiShadou98
Summary: After returning from Hell, Lucifer has difficulty sleeping - plagued by nightmares and paranoid after so long away. Chloe finds that sometimes, the only way to help someone is to cry with them.Twice as angsty at it sounds. Lucifer get's really beat up in this one. So does Chloe, actually.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Lucifer One-shots [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673098
Comments: 30
Kudos: 223





	No One's Gonna Find You When You're Hiding In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I've really put our dear Detective and Devil through the ringer with this one. Lucifer's got issues, Chloe feels helplessly. Yet through everything, they still have one another. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!
> 
> Beta'd by the fantastic MorningStarGirl666.

“Monkey, time for bed.” The moment Chloe said it, she felt Lucifer tense up from where he sat beside her on the couch.

Inwardly, she sighed at his reaction. Until just now, he’d been having a good day, or, as good as could be expected. He hadn’t freaked out at the precinct, even when Dan had come up behind him unexpectedly and clapped him on the shoulder. There had been a slight hiccup around lunch when one of the junior detectives had gotten too close to her. Fortunately, he hadn’t heard Lucifer growling like a cornered dog.

So far, the possessive thing was proving to be the hardest to break. With Linda’s help, they’d overcome most of the other issues that had tagged along with Lucifer when he’d returned from Hell, but he was still becoming aggressive when he felt she was being threatened. At least he’d stopped actually hurting people. The growling wasn’t much better but no one could sue him for it or remove him as a consultant.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she prepared for the long night which awaited her. Since Lucifer’s return, he’d lived almost exclusively in her house. At first it had been a matter of making sure he was monitored at all times. No one had been sure how he was going to react after being away from Earth for so long. As Amenadiel had helpfully told them, what had been six months for them had been closer to a century for Lucifer. 

Unfortunately, the time apart meant he had seriously regressed. He was up to three sessions with Linda a week - two alone and one with Chloe present. It was exhausting, chiseling back his layers to free what lay below. After two months of hard work, his behavior in public was as boisterous and charming as ever. When he was with her and Trixie though, he became more reserved, smaller somehow. Linda had told her this was a good thing for him, having a space he felt comfortable enough in to be vulnerable, but it still scared her. Sometimes he would just sit and stare blankly until she shook him, caught up in whatever nightmares dominated his mind.

She rose from the couch, wincing as Lucifer whimpered. That was another change. Where before Hell he’d been only just becoming comfortable with touch, now he was ravenous for it. Hugs were still a no go because they were restricting, but he constantly wanted her touch. At crime scenes, he practically stood on her feet, desperate to close any gaps between them. So far, the newly awoken thirst for affection was limited to just her and, to a lesser extent, Trixie. He balked at everyone else, even little Charlie.

“I’m just going to put Trixie to bed, okay?” She ran a thumb across his brow, smoothing the bristly hairs. “I’ll be right back.”

Even with the assurance, he watched her closely as she rounded the couch and went into Trixie’s room. She left the door open for him as she settled into bed with her daughter to read her a story. The two of them struggled to fit on the twin bed together and Chloe knew their cuddling days were numbered. Instead of reading aloud, the two of them read along silently together, flipping the page once both were finished. Occasionally they paused to remark on a character or plot point but it was a mostly quiet activity. 

“Goodnight, Monkey.” She climbed out of the bed, the treacherous pull of soft sheets calling to her. “And no phone. Tomorrow’s a school day.”

Trixie mock groaned but set her phone on the nightstand. “Night, Mom.” 

Chloe left the bedroom door cracked open an inch, just enough to let a bit of light filter through. She smiled to herself. Even if Trixie was going to be in middle school soon, it was comforting to know she would be a child for a little longer. 

Lucifer was still on the couch, watching the same home renovation show from before. His head snapped around as she approached and, though he smiled, he still scanned the room warily, searching for the unknown danger that surely must be hiding somewhere.

Wordlessly, she picked up the purple weighted blanket from its customary spot next to the couch and draped it over his shoulders from behind. He clutched at the fabric instantly, rubbing it between his fingers in a self soothing gesture. 

She’d had to confiscate his cuff-links a few weeks ago. His constant tugging and twisting had broken most of the clasps. He wore them in public well enough but here, in the safety of what was quickly becoming their home, he’d become almost obsessed. So now the cuff-links came off at the door, deposited into the same bowl as their keys and wallets.

She let him fiddle with the blanket until the tension in his shoulders eased. Taking the blanket, she shook it out and settled it over him properly. He still played with the edge, the pads of his fingers caressing in the same pattern over and over, but he was more relaxed now.

Sitting beside him, she changed the channel, looking for something to watch. Lucifer flicked over part of the blanket, trying to cover her too. Smiling, she scooted closer. Even at his worst, he was always concerned about her. Some people would have found his behavior stifling but now that they’d faced the possibility of losing each other, stifling was exactly what they needed.

“What do you want to watch?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

Curling against him, she flipped through the channels idly, ignoring the heaviness growing in the corners of her eyes. The last two weeks had been back to back cases for her - first a double homicide and then a kidnapping gone wrong. She’d signed so many reports in the last few days, the ink smudges on her hands had become permanent fixtures.

The first three yawns were easy to fight off. Clenching her teeth against the pressure, she pressed her face firmly into Lucifer’s shoulder and waited for the moment to pass. Lucifer didn’t seem to mind her shifting. One of his arms had snaked around her, pulling her more firmly against his side. His hand was wrapped around her elbow now, fingers playing over her skin as they’d done with the blanket.

The gesture was different though. Rather than a product of nervous energy, the touch was borne of affection. She wished she could have enjoyed it more but as so much of her focus was going into keeping herself awake, she hardly noticed.

Yawn number four crept up on her, bursting out with enough force to hurt her jaw. Eyes watering, she finally admitted defeat.

“Lucifer, it’s getting late,” she said softly.

He had tensed beside her after the yawn but now he was taut as a piano wire. His arm fell away, leaving a cold line across her back.

“It’s not that late,” he said. “We can stay up a little longer.”

“You barely slept last night… or the night before,” she reminded him. When he kept his eyes on the television, she reached up, catching his jaw and turning his head to face her. “Hey, look at me.”

From so close, the signs of his exhaustion were impossible to ignore. The bags under his eyes, which only ever seemed to grow, were darker than ever, contrasting sharply with his pale skin. His brown eyes hadn’t sparkled since his return, reduced to a muddy color from beneath heavy lids always on the verge of dozing. 

“I don’t want to sleep,” he whined, even as he pressed his face into her palm.

She scratched his chin, the rasp of his stubble drowning out the television. “I know, but you have to try. Remember what Linda said? The longer you go without sleep, the more likely you’ll experience vivid dreams.”

Lucifer shuddered, looking at her mournfully. Privately, Chloe doubted his dreams could get any more vivid than they already were.

Every night, Lucifer had nightmares. Not the sort where he would awaken with a gasp but the full body spasm ones. He’d scream and buck like he was possessed, drenching the bed in sweat. Worst of all, he’d cry. 

Chloe had never seen anything like it. He’d almost hyperventilate, caught somewhere between his nightmares and reality. On the rare good night, it would only take her ten minutes to calm him down. Far more often, it would take an hour or more of whispered words and holding just to get him to stop shaking. By that point, he would be far too distraught to fall asleep again. 

At first, Lucifer had resisted resting with his trademark stubbornness. But lately, the fight had gone out of him. Whether it was a product of nearly two months of interrupted sleep or something deeper, his steadfast refusal had shrunk to what bordered on begging. 

It broke her heart every damn time.

“Can we at least watch TV upstairs?” she asked.

This had been their routine for the past eight weeks. The script was embedded in her brain, the words spoken hardly holding any meaning now that they had been uttered so often.

As she’d known he would, Lucifer agreed. They turned off the lights and retreated upstairs, Lucifer still holding onto his blanket. 

After his first nightmare, Chloe had moved Lucifer into her own room. He’d been a true gentleman about the arrangement, not that she expected anything less. He even kept the innuendos to a minimum but that was probably rooted in his exhaustion.

She went about changing into pajamas while Lucifer stumped off to shower. By the time he came back out, wet hair licking up into curls and eyes free of makeup, she was already in bed. He climbed onto his side, propping himself against the headboard.

“Lucifer c’mon, just lay down,” she implored. 

He groaned, running a hand through his hair haphazardly and spraying her with water. “I don’t want to sleep!”

She rolled onto her side. “I know you don’t.” Reaching out, she caught his hand, disentangling it from his hair and laying it on the bed between them. “I know.”

At first, Linda had tried medication to help Lucifer sleep. That first night, he’d been terrified as his body had drifted off without his permission. Even though the medicine had ultimately been successful, keeping him asleep for a full six hours, Chloe hadn’t been able to continue the treatment. It had felt like a betrayal, taking away the control he coveted. Besides, his nightmares had been just as horrific.

“If you don’t get some sleep, you can’t go to work with me tomorrow,” she said. He gave her a hurt look and she continued, “I’m not trying to use that as a punishment. It’s just… I can’t put you in danger for a case knowing you’re not at a hundred percent. You could get injured and I’d never forgive myself if that happened.”

He still looked uncertain but eventually relented, curling up on his side. “I don’t want to dream anymore,” he said, eyes glittering with horrors she’d never know.

This was the worst part, the helplessness of it all. No matter what they did, he would still have the nightmares. She could hold and caress him all she wanted but every morning he grew weaker, quieter. He was drowning in himself and she didn’t know how to fix it.

She’d gone to Linda’s on her own once or twice and they’d talked about why Lucifer seemed so much more affected by Hell. They agreed that not having Maze with him had definitely not helped. As far as either of them knew, Maze was the only demon Lucifer had any connection to. Without her, he’d been well and truly alone.

The larger reason was he was simply a different man.

Nine years on Earth had taught him plenty, softened him. For the first time in eons, he’d loved and been loved in return. His self hatred issues had begun the slow process towards healing. And right on the cusp, he’d returned to a place of torture with his defenses at their weakest.

Just thinking about it stole her breath, a rock landing on her chest and forcing out the air. She held onto his hand tighter, lacing their fingers together. Lucifer blinked at her, moving closer until his head was pressed into her shoulder and his feet were tucked under her knees. He made an odd humming noise in the back of his throat, like a rusty cat purr. Which is what it essentially was. Amenadiel had once explained to her all the nuances of the language of the angels. More than words, there was a large number of noises they used to express themselves.

His purrs were meant to calm her, an expression of safety and well-being. She wished every day there was a way she could reciprocate.

Reaching with her free hand, she turned off the bedside lamp. Lucifer’s humming hitched, his head raising, but she shushed him, running a hand through his damp hair. The purring resumed and she continued stroking him, looping the curls around her fingers and letting them unravel with a small bounce.

She could hear when he began to doze off. The humming died out, his breaths evening out as he pressed closer into her with a sigh. For all his fear, he was too sleep deprived to hold out for long. 

The same could not be said for herself.

This was the time she most hated, when he’d already fallen asleep and she was still awake. He was somewhere beyond her now, a place of torment she couldn’t protect him from. How long did his nightmares last before he awoke? Seconds? Minutes? He’d never tell her. Already, he could be succumbing to memories of ash and brimstone. 

Her hand drew away from his, creeping up his chest until she found his heartbeat, slow and steady. 

If given the chance, she’d take on his suffering. The memories. The dreams. She would shoulder that burden for him if only to see his face light up again. After everything they’d been through - the fights and miscommunications - she wished it could all be taken back. How much longer could they have had if she’d never pursued Marcus? If Eve had never left Heaven?

Of course, she loved Lucifer dearly, no matter his condition. She didn’t see him as broken, farthest thing from it actually. He’d walked the halls of Hell with his head held high. He’d ruled over demons and the damned without losing himself. 

He was the bravest man she’d ever met.

Yes, man. The term Devil, it didn’t mean anything to her, not anymore. The word was simply a title, not a brand.

Her eyes drifted closed, the beckoning call of sleep gently shoving her towards the void. She hesitated only once before taking the leap…

Heart hammering, she jerked awake. The bed was vibrating and her first thought was she was on a boat. Then the yelling pierced through her fog. 

Blindly, she searched for Lucifer, realizing he was the reason everything was shaking. The screaming hadn’t abated yet. She had to wake him up.

Her roving hand grasped onto something bony - a shoulder? - and she held on. Something else smacked her as she rolled closer but she ignored his flailing limbs, anchoring her grip as she tried to rouse him.

“Lucifer. Lucifer!” 

And just like that, the screaming stopped. She laid there in the dark, listening to his rapid breathing as his body went still for a moment. Then, the shivers started with a choked off sob.

“Oh, Lucifer,” she whispered, following her hand from his shoulder to his neck, until she could touch his face. His cheeks were already wet, lips trembling. 

Crawling on her stomach, she wrapped him in a hug. He responded instantly, arms crushing her to him with nearly bruising force. His breath whistled against her ear, the small whimpers he couldn’t hide cutting into her jaggedly like a serrated knife.

“Shhhh,” she said. “I’m sorry. It’s over.”

“It’s n-n-never over.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated dully. It was all she could say.

The digital clock on his side of the bed was just visible from her position. They’d hardly slept for an hour.

He was still shaking beneath her, the trembles working their way through her own body. 

“Lucifer, can you please let me go?”

He did so at once, arms springing away. She sat up, resting a hand on his stomach to keep him centered.

“What did you dream about?” she asked, as she’d asked every single night.

“I won’t s-say.” He was still struggling to calm down.

“Okay. That’s fine. But I’m here, okay? If you want to talk, I’m here.” She hoped that if she said it enough times, one day he would tell her. In the meantime, she had to get him to relax or neither of them were going to get any more sleep. 

With plenty of encouragement, she got Lucifer to roll over onto his side. She laid behind him, acting as the big spoon. The position was made awkward by their height difference but Lucifer had curled up so tightly in a fetal position, it didn’t really matter.

Pressing her mouth to the back of his neck, she kissed him and began to whisper, “I love you so much. You’re my partner. My best friend. Everything. And the nightmares, one day it’s going to end. I promise you. This isn’t forever. We’re going to get through this together.”

He was crying harder, sobs giving way to rattling breaths as his chest heaved. She wrapped an arm over his waist, pulling him against her.

“Lucifer, I’m always going to be right here. We’ve gotten through so much. Malcolm. Pierce. Finding out you’re an angel. All of it. And this? It’s just one more step we have to take.”

“But you’re going to die! Everyone’s going to die,” he said, twisting in her grip to face her.

In the semi darkness, she could just make out his eyes, reflective with tears. Leaning forward, she pressed their foreheads together.

“We can’t focus on that right now.”

“B-but I see it!”

She froze, eyes searching fruitlessly in the dark for his expression. “Is that what you dream about? Me dying?”

“Chloe, I dream about everything. All of it. Every moment I fell! Every soul I tortured! Every possible way I could lose Linda and Trixie and - and y-you!”

The confession was blinding in its pain. She felt cut open, aching for him, for all he’d been made to endure. The tears fell unbidden, mixing with his own.

“I promise you, I’ll be right here. Always,” she said, startled by her own conviction.

Lucifer shook his head. “No. You’ll go to Heaven and I’ll stay here.”

“Then I won’t go,” she cupped the back of his head, pulling at his curls. “If Heaven won’t take you, then it can’t have me either.”

“But, you have to. That’s where you belong.”

“No, Lucifer, I belong with you.”

Words failed them both, sobs beginning anew as the two of them cried. They clung to one another desperately, all the things they’d never said expressed in the way their hands searched for skin, the way their lips kissed away tears. 

Chloe wasn’t sure which one of them gave in first, which mind retreated into sleep to protect itself from the grief. She thought it was Lucifer but it just as well have been herself.

Twice more she was awakened by his screams. And twice more she held him, promising that one day this would end. One day, they would leave the dark.

When morning came, the light found rumpled sheets and a sideways bedspread. As Chloe blinked open gummy eyes, thick and swollen from a night of crying, she found her and Lucifer had switched sides of the bed. 

He was already awake, staring at her from beneath wild hair sticking out in all directions. His eyes were red rimmed, skin sticky with tears and sweat.

“We can’t win,” he rasped without preamble when she met his gaze. “My dad-”

“Fuck your dad,” she interrupted.

Lucifer blinked, taken aback by her strong language. Then, he chuckled. It was such a small sound, hardly more than a cough really, but a laugh all the same. Maybe the first real laugh in forever.

“I’d really rather not, if it’s all the same to you,” he said.

“Oh, so we’ve finally found the line the great Lucifer Morningstar won’t cross?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Incest? Pass. Hard pass.”

And right then, she knew they were going to be okay.

No, things weren’t going to get magically, or even marginally, better. There would be hard days and worst days. Nights of shared tears and broken spirits. But in that chuckle that was almost a cough, lay their salvation.

Lucifer had told her once that he’d been known as the Lightbringer long ago. She’d always thought it was in reference to him creating the stars.

But now, seeing the spark in his eye, she understood. No matter how far he fell, how lost he became, he was light personified. The spark may be small, a barely there reflection no bigger than a grain of sand, but still, there it was. And one day, hopefully soon though she knew better, that spark would be an inferno again.

A crash from downstairs jolted her out of her head. Sitting up, she winced at another bang.

“I guess Trixie’s making breakfast,” she said.

Lucifer smiled, climbing out of bed and shrugging on his robe. “I’d better get down there before she creates a disaster. What would you like for breakfast this morning?”

“I don’t know. An omelet?”

“My pleasure.” He disappeared in a whirl of expensive fabric, a bounce in his step as he called down to Trixie.

Yeah, everything was going to be just fine.


End file.
